


For I am Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

by Taro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean's an asshole, Demon!Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Fallen!Castiel, Implied Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Unrequited Love, anyway, basically my version of Cas seeing demon!Dean for the first time, cas and sam are both sad babies that I wanna hug, it's all angsty, sorta - Freeform, the deanmon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2758250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taro/pseuds/Taro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel didn't know what he expected to see, honestly.</p><p>But he did not expect Dean. His Dean.</p><p>And that is what he got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For I am Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a tiny oneshot about angsty!Castiel seeing demon!Dean for the first time. Inspired by a Sherlock fanfic (Darkling I Listen, IT'S SO GOOD) bc the true forms of demons are creepy and cool to write about.
> 
> This has like an extremely crappy ending bc I didn't know how to end it? So yeah? Enjoy, I guess?

"I got him." Is the first thing he hears. No greeting, no questions. But they're not necessary. That is all he needs to hear. 

And is also the last thing he expected. 

For a second, Castiel even thought that Dean had killed Sam, and for some twisted reason had decided to call him from the dead brother's phone, to give him the news, or to mock his uselessness, or something else as equally degrading.

He sent a quick and silent prayer of thanks that it was actually Sam, and with good news too. 

"I'll be there as soon as I can." 

The line went dead. The angel got in his car and began to drive.

 

•

 

Sam opened the door to a not very pleasant sight. Cas knew that. He knew that his vessel—should he even call it that anymore... Body sounds better—wasn't in any way in good shape. He couldn't dare to look in a mirror, but he had very few money for food, his clothes were dirty and worn, and he hadn't exactly been having enough sleep; the feeling of asphyxiating and the need to cough wouldn't let him.

Exhausted was putting it lightly.

But he needed this. He needed to see him with his own eyes.

"Hello, Sam."

The hunter did his best to hide his face of pity, but did a poor job of it. Sam nodded once and answered, "Cas." And after a meaningful pause, added, "He's in the dungeon."

 

•

 

_  
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them._

_Psalm 139:14-16  
_

 

•

 

Castiel didn't know what he expected to see, honestly. 

Maybe a beaten up, raw and red body covered in bruises and cuts, fresh out of killing some innocent man. Rough exhales out of its nose, and pained grunts hinting of a rasped and tired voice from fighting the battle of predators and prey.

Or maybe a grin full of pointed teeth and smug eyes, hissing out sensuality with the tongue of a snake. Smooth movements; lurking movements; calculating movements. Like fog slowly filling up the room with its presence and squeezing the oxygen out of the room.

But he did not expect Dean. His Dean.

And that is what he got.

It was him. So very him, but, so very _not him._

When the demon in the chair looked at Cas, the angel could see its true face. It wasn't Dean anymore. It was a twisted and rotten soul, darkened by the grasp of the Mark of Cain. But it was _Dean's soul,_ and he recognized it. After all, Castiel had to pull it out from Hell and piece it back together atom by atom. He knew it quite well.

Instead of the righteous man, the angel saw a snake, with melting red eyes and a thousand claws reaching out to rip him. Cas blinked, and the image turned into a spider-like creature, with one eye, blacker than an empty universe, and legs that twisted and broke every millisecond into impossible figures as it tried to break free from its bonds. He blinked again, and the spider turned into skin, burnt and boiling and raw, that every moment Castiel thought he found out the form of this creature shifted again, and the faces of all the tortured souls that the host had hurt protruded from within, only to be dissolved in screams by its skin bending in on itself.

He had seen thousands of demons before, but now that he could recognize its past soul—and the fact that it was his _Dean_ —it was overwhelming to watch. The angel had to turn his head away. 

But nothing could take away the _smell._

The smell of bloodlust, of darkness and death that surrounded what used to be Dean was more prominent than anything that his eyes could see. And even though, he had to look again.

"Hi, Cas." It lured.

Castiel did not answer. He couldn't. The bile was rising too fast from his stomach and his legs were shaking. 

"Y'know, the old Dean wouldn't have said anything... Hell, he couldn't even tell this to himself, but oh my, Castiel, you'd make a very hot bitch. Specially with all that glowing aura shit that I can see now." 

The only thing the angel could process right then was that Dean had called him by his full name, and Cas couldn't remember the last time he had.

Sam isn't here, thankfully. Castiel needed to do this alone.

Cas began to circle him, "You're not him." _You can't be._

"Oh, but baby, what if I might actually be?" Its eyes glinted under the strong light bulb above. They somehow seemed darker than any other demon eyes Castiel had ever seen before, except Lucifer. But it was better than having to face Dean's beautiful green eyes and know that they would nevermore see the angel the same way as before.

The Knight shook his head, "Fuck... I'd never seen an angel in true form, but damn, I'm so glad I can..." And Castiel couldn't help but _jolt_ when Dean licked his lips in desire.

Castiel knew what he looked like. In human terms it was impossible to describe. The closest word that could describe him would be _light._ Potent, blinding, brilliant, overwhelming could be used too. Those came as close as the human language could go.

"You look revolting," Cas said. It was the only thing he could get out of his mouth. The rest of him was in a perpetual state of paralysis.

Dean made a face, "Thanks, darling. I do my best," he said with a smug expression.

When Cas kept quiet for a while—because, really, _what could he say?_ —and all Dean did was study the angel that circled him slowly, Cas had time to think. 

The real Dean would never say these things to him, not even in a joke. As much as Cas would have liked to be called 'darling' and 'baby' by someone—and it would be a lot better if that someone was Dean—he knew that this was the real life. And that the hunter would never look at him the same way he did. 

Cas sacrificed everything, he gave everything up, for Dean. Sure, all humanity deserved to be saved, but no one believed it so little and deserved it so much as Dean Winchester. 

But he failed. 

Cas had let Dean down. So many times. 

This was the one time he had to succeed. At least this once, so that all of Castiel's past mistakes could begin to be redeemed. 

But the righteous man fell. And it was Castiel's fault.

He'd never forgive himself for what he had done. 

Because the Dean he once knew, was now dead because of him.

"So, what? Y'gonna walk around all day long? Not that I have somewhere else to be anyway..." Dean stated, a bit annoyed, shaking his shackles. 

Cas could not think of anything to say. So, in lack of words, he stuck with a simple, "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Dean snapped, " _Save_ me?!" After a dark and long chuckle that made Castiel's bones tremble, the Knight continued, "You stupid angel, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me! The care I had for my brother? The love and pent up anger I had for my father? The mixed freaking butterfly emotions I had for you? They're all gone now. Like dust in the fucking wind. And I couldn't feel more free now." He said with an open mouthed grin, "I could kill you all right now and feel good about it."

Cas was breathless once again.

Had he just heard correctly..?

But... It was too late for him and Dean.

And Castiel should have known. Dean's a demon after all, and demons aren't good souled at all, not even for their human-life loved ones. So why did the angel feel like he _couldn't breathe?_

_I'm so sorry, Dean._


End file.
